Living With Lies Trilogy (Books 1, 2, and 3 of The Dancing Moon Ranch Series) (7 page)

Reaching for the alphabet picture book with animals from A to Z, she held it up where Ricky could turn the pages, but when he raised his hand, it faltered, so she did it for him.

***

It was early afternoon by the time Jack returned from the airport with his mother. Grace left Ricky asleep on her bed and went into the living room to meet Maureen Hansen. After Jack made introductions, to Grace's surprise, Jack's mother gave her a hug.

"I know all about the mix-up," Maureen said, "but the baby you're carrying is my grandchild, so you're family now, just as Susan's baby will be. I am concerned about Susan though. She's having trouble accepting things, so I decided to come home early and help look after Ricky. He can be a handful when he's well." She sat on the couch and patted the cushion.

Grace sat beside her. "I suppose he can be," she said, though she hadn't seen that side of Ricky. After playing with his plastic toys he'd been content sitting beside her in bed while she turned the pages of the book, until he fell asleep.

"Son, I could use a glass of wine," Maureen said to Jack. "And get some juice for Grace." She patted Grace's hand. "Then you and I are going to get acquainted."

In an instant, Grace felt more at home with Jack's mother than she'd ever felt with Marc's family. Marc's highly educated parents had never adjusted to their son marrying a woman who's goal in life was to be a wife and mother and have a house with a back yard, and six kids and a few cats. Marc had been fine with that. They'd bought the house and Mei Ling, so having Marc's child would have been a partial fulfillment of her dream. But she wasn't having Marc's child. She was having Jack's, and he wanted to build a house so she'd be close.

That is, so his son would be close.

After Jack brought the wine and juice and left, Maureen said to Grace, "How is Ricky?"

"He seems fine," Grace replied, "but it was only the second time I've been around him. I don't know much about his illness other than it's a rare blood disorder and he needs a bone marrow transplant. Did they know from birth he was sick?"

Maureen nodded. "When he was circumcised, instead of deep red blood it was pink. The pediatrician had blood tests run, which showed he has Schwartz-Traub anemia, a very rare blood disorder that doesn't allow his body to produce white blood cells without help."

"What kind of help?" Grace asked.

"Prednisone. He takes it every day. It stimulates his bone marrow to produce white blood cells, but if a blood draw shows he's not producing, or producing them too slowly, he has to have a transfusion, which has side effects—headache, fever, hives and other allergic reactions—so they're given only when steroids aren't working. Jack said Ricky had a transfusion recently."

Grace nodded. "You mentioned fever. Ricky felt warm today, and he kept putting his hands to his face, like his head was heavy."

"He does that when he has a headache," Maureen said. "A sign he needs a transfusion."

"Then he'll need steroids and transfusions all his life?" Grace asked, trying to get a handle on Ricky's illness. In the waiting room at the clinic he'd been a faceless child with a disorder. Now, he was very real, and very precious. A child within her power to save. But only at the risk of her own child. If she were to make the flight, and her nerves kicked in, which was certain to happen, her water could break…

"Kids with Schwartz-Traub rarely make it to their teens without a bone marrow or stem cell transplant, which is the only cure," Maureen replied, "but the clock's ticking for Ricky. After age five he'll be too big for a cord-blood transplant because there isn't enough blood in the umbilical cord of a newborn to produce enough stem cells to fight the illness."

It wasn't until then that Grace truly realized the urgency of the situation. The thought was troubling. "Jack said that our baby might be a match," she said, although she hadn't intended to bring it up. But after seeing how sick Ricky was, and knowing time was running out, she wasn't so sure it was
not
an option any longer.

"There's a good chance your child could be a match," Maureen said. She covered Grace's hand with hers. "It's a tough call. Jack told me you're afraid of flying, and I know about the premature labor, so even if you did fly to New Jersey, the baby might not be a match. Jack also told me you're planning on natural childbirth. He's worried about that."

Grace rolled her eyes. "Women have been doing it since Adam and Eve, and civilization has survived, but I know how worried Jack is, so I might consent to having him at the birthing center instead, and Jack can still deliver the baby. Did he tell you about that?"

Again, Maureen nodded. "I guess it's somewhat therapeutic, being actively involved like he is, even going to your classes. This baby is very important to him."

"You said therapeutic?" Grace said, backing up some. "In what way?"

"Jack didn't tell you about what happened three years ago?"

"No. At least I don't think he did," Grace said. "Why? What happened?"

"I'd better let him tell you when he's ready," Maureen said. "He probably has his reason for not saying anything. But he'll have to tell you eventually, since he plans on moving you to the ranch right away. Are you alright with that?"

"No, I have no intention of moving here," Grace said. "I love my house and I have friends nearby."

"Nana?" Ricky wandered into the room while grinding a knuckle into his eye.

"Hi sweetheart," Maureen said, opening her arms for the toddler to crawl onto her lap. He slumped against her, and she covered his forehead with her hand. "He's warm," she said. "Time for his Prednisone. I'll take him back and see how Susan is. We'll talk later."

"Do you mind if I go too?" Grace asked. "The last time I saw Susan she was angry and upset, and I want to try to smooth things over."

"Sure, come along." 

When they got to Sam and Susan's house, Sam and Jack were in the living room talking in hushed tones, and the door to the hallway was closed. "I'm glad you're here, Mom," Sam said, giving his mother a hug. "Susan's pretty unstable right now, saying things that are troubling."

"Troubling! Hell," Jack said. "She's talking about getting rid of the baby. She needs to be hospitalized where she can be watched."

"Mom and I can watch her," Sam said. "The doctor gave her an antipsychotic drug. He said it wouldn't hurt the baby."

"Maybe the drug won't hurt him," Jack said, "but your wife might."

"Stop it, Jack!" Maureen cut in. "This situation with Susan is entirely different. Susan's facing losing Ricky. It's not an issue with the baby."

Grace looked from Maureen, whose face clearly told Jack to drop the subject, to Jack, whose jaws were clenched, as if struggling to keep from saying his peace. What situation was entirely different? And what was the issue with the baby? In an effort to defuse the situation, Grace said, "Would it be alright if I looked in on Susan, maybe sat with her for a few minutes?"

"Not a good idea," Sam said. "She's pretty upset that the baby you're carrying—"

"Hold it right there," Jack cut in. "The baby Grace is carrying is my son, so I have some say in this. If Grace is afraid of flying I don't want her to go. It's as simple as that."

"That's easy for you to say," Sam snapped. "You're not about to lose a son!"

Jack said nothing, just stood staring at Sam, eyes intense, muscles in his jaw flexing. Then Sam reached out and squeezed Jack's arm, and said, "Sorry, that just came out. You have to do what's best for your son."

Jack released his breath, and said, "That's exactly what I intend to do. Come on," he said to Grace. "I'll walk you back to the lodge." He took Grace's arm and turned her toward the door.

As Grace walked with Jack, she didn't dare probe for answers about the puzzling exchange between him and Sam because she knew intuitively that Jack had shut the door to further questions. But at some point, she intended to get some answers.

CHAPTER 6

When Grace and Jack stepped out of Sam's house, Jack took Grace's elbow to support her as he walked with her down steps covered in slush, and said, "I picked up a book at the airport today. We'll stop by my house and get it."

"I hope it's a book on how to knit heels," Grace replied, as they crossed the driveway to Jack's house. "Incidentally, I knitted a match for the other sock. No heel, but I'll keep trying until I get it right since I plan to have lots of kids and I expect them all to be born with heels." To relieve Jack's mind that he was not the object of her husband search, she added, "And just for the record, the man who father's my kids will not object to having cats in the house." Although she'd just assured Jack she was not looking for him to father her offspring, the idea of snuggling up to him seemed to be invading her mind of late.

Women get broody about that time.

A speaker made the comment at one of the birthing classes, which brought howls of laughter from men who were going through periods of broodiness with their pregnant wives. Which also explained Grace's own desire to get a little intimate with the father of her child. Especially with the father of her child, since she'd been deprived of the natural means of creating their baby with Jack. But her untimely hedonistic desires would pass when the baby arrived and she'd be into a daily routine of washing baby clothes and changing umpteen diapers and getting up in the middle of the night to feed a large, hungry, squalling baby with dark hair and dark eyes. She looked at Jack's firm profile and wondered if their son really would look like him. She'd like that.

"And talking about cats," Jack said, as they climbed the steps to his porch, "I read that pregnant women shouldn't clean litter boxes so I'll do it for now. Another reason to move you into my house."

Grace looked at Jack with a start. Was his comment a subtle hint that he might be a candidate for father of her brood? "Then you don't mind cats in the house?" she asked.

"Maybe not." Jack tipped his head toward hers as they walked across the porch to the front door. "You smell good," he said. "Real good." His arm tightened on her elbow.

"It's baby lotion. I've been rubbing it on my... umm... skin," Grace replied. "And thanks for holding onto me. I can barely see my feet to walk up stairs anymore."

"Sorry about that," Jack said. When he reached around her to open the door, his chest pressed against her back, and his breath wafted against the side of her face.

"About what?" Grace asked, losing her train of thought. The feel of Jack's large frame, wrapped around her like a mantle of warmth, was very distracting.

"The size of my son," Jack replied. "You're a small woman to be having a baby his size. I want you to have him in the hospital."

"Please don't start that again," Grace said, eyeing the dismal surroundings, while rearranging the furniture in her mind. It could be cozy and comfortable if things were picked up and the table cleared and the dishes washed, a place where she could stay, at least until the baby came, and maybe for a couple of months afterward. She didn't feel as connected to her home as before.

"Your hips aren't very wide," Jack said. "It could be a difficult birth."

"He'll get through," Grace mused, while contemplating the random dishes and mismatched coffee mugs on a shelf beside the sink. She eyed Jack, who looked truly concerned. "If you're that worried, I might consider having him at the birthing center, but it's expensive and my insurance doesn't cover it," she added, while feeling an urge to round up a bucket and mop and disinfectant and start cleaning Jack's house and make it a home.

"Is that why you're having him at home, to save a few bucks?" Jack asked, taking her attention away from a copper tub with a confusion of magazines and dirty socks and one old, slipper lined in fleece. The tub would look nice with an arrangement of silk flowers in it.

"It's considerably more than a few bucks," she mused, turning her attention to the mantle over the fireplace. An old clock sat off at one end, covered in dust and nearly obscured by a stack of mail, dirty mugs, and more old magazines...

"Cost is no problem," Jack said. "If it's about money it's settled. You'll have him at the birthing center at Portland General. I'll call and set things up."

That caught Grace's attention. "No! I've been going to the birthing center in McMinnville since I learned I was pregnant and I'm willing to have the baby there, but not at the hospital."

She looked at Jack, who was going through his usual chain of reactions when she confronted him, and waited for him to come around, which he evaded, by saying, "We still have a couple more weeks to decide."

Grace released a snort of exasperation and sat on the couch, the only piece of furniture free of dust, but only because it looked like it had recently been slept on, with a blanket thrown back and a bed pillow at the opposite end. "What is the book?" she asked, "a daily guide so all I have to do is get up in the morning, flip to the right page, and see what I'm supposed to do?"

"I got a book of names," Jack said, ignoring her discourse.

"Have you selected one yet?" Grace clipped.

"It's our child, Grace. Not mostly mine and a little bit yours. Ours," Jack said, turning things around. "We'll both be on board with his name. So if you're through haranguing me about running your life, honey, maybe we can come up with something."

Grace felt worn down with the man. Now he was being reasonable, even calling her honey, and instead of wanting to shake him senseless, she wanted to cuddle up against him and page through the book and come up with a name for their son. It about drove her nuts how Jack flipped back and forth, jerking her with him. "I'm through," she said.

Jack grabbed the book of names from the kitchen table and sat beside her, and she leaned against him so she could peer over his shoulder as he flipped to the section on names for boys, and started down the column of names beginning in A...

After an hour, they were down to three names, none of which they both agreed. "My first choice is still David," Grace said, envisioning a marble statue of Michelangelo's
David
. "When I was sixteen, Mom and Dad, and my sister, Justine, and I went to Italy, and when we were in Florence I saw Michelangelo's David. I'd never seen a naked man, and seeing one seventeen feet tall was very, umm, educational. He was also supposed to be the perfect form of a man, so that's what I feel like I'm carrying inside me. A perfect baby David."

"Yeah, well, I also saw the statue when I was in the army over there," Jack said, "and David has a problem, a running joke with Italians because of the size of his
pisello
."

"Big?" Grace asked.

"Boy size," Jack replied. "The explanation is, when a man faces danger it contracts, and since David was confronting Goliath with only a stone, it shriveled."

"Does that really happen?" Grace asked.

"Could be," Jack replied, giving her one of his rare smiles. 

"Well, I also remember the tour guide saying that even though David was a Jew he wasn't circumcised," Grace said, finding the perfect opening, "which brings up that subject."

"A non-issue," Jack said. "Our son
will
be circumcised."

"It's not a non-issue to me," Grace replied. "I have a booklet with a DVD describing why it shouldn't be done."

Jack folded his arms. "When he's in the locker room at school guys will tease him, and a guy can stand up to being teased about almost anything but his cock."

"You need to watch the DVD," Grace said. "A lot of sexual pleasure is lost with circumcision and for that reason our son should be allowed to make his own decision when he's a man."

"It needs to be done," Jack insisted. "I know about boys and circumcision. You don't."

"But I do know about women and circumcision," Grace said. "A survey showed that women preferred uncircumcised men because the foreskin contains a high concentration of nerve endings and when it's removed the man has to thrust harder and deeper to have an orgasm, causing discomfort for the woman. The survey also showed that women were more likely to have multiple orgasms with uncircumcised men."

"I take it your husband wasn't circumcised," Jack said.

"Well, no," Grace admitted, "which is why he insisted any sons we had would not be."

"Have you ever had sex with a circumcised man?" Jack asked, face rigid.

A guy can stand up to being teased about almost anything but his cock.

"Umm, no," Grace admitted, realizing too late it was an affront to Jack, implying he couldn't bring pleasure to a woman because he was circumcised. "But this isn't about you or me, it's about our son and the pain he'd go through during circumcision, and what he and his wife might miss in the way of sexual pleasure later in his life."

"Look. Sex for circumcised males isn't a problem," Jack snapped. "I haven't had any complaints from women."

"Alright then," Grace said. "If you insist on having it done then I'll insist you be there to watch. As for names, if you don't want David then you decide."

Jack looked troubled, like their disagreement bothered him. Like maybe he really did want them to be together on things. But after a few moments, his brows drew together like he had an idea, and he said, "What about Adam? That was my father's name and he was a great man. It would make my mom happy."

Grace held Jack's expectant gaze. Adam. She liked that idea. What's more, she liked the name. "Why didn't you think of that before now?" she asked. "It's the perfect name."

Jack looked at her long and hard, as if he was deliberating about something, which he confirmed when he said, "If you give me that book I'll read it, and maybe watch the DVD."

"Thank you," Grace replied. Before leaving, she took one last look around the room. The urge to clean the place was even stronger. Eyeing Jack, she said, "Could I tidy up around here?"

"Are you considering moving in then?" Jack asked.

Grace shrugged. "Making the place tidier might give me more incentive."

"Then I'll get Flo to come over."

"No," Grace said. "I'm tired of sitting and I want to get some exercise, and I'm fine now."

Jack sighed. "Okay, but I will carry you back to the lodge since... I want to." He lifted her in his arms and headed for the lodge. And Grace felt like screaming as she wrapped her arms around his neck and settled against his chest, because now she felt like kissing the man senseless.

At the lodge, Grace gave Jack the booklet on circumcision and said, "I'm glad you're willing to read this. The DVD's here." She flipped open the back cover, displaying a pocket with a DVD.

Jack took the book but held onto her hand, his face troubled as he toyed with her wedding rings. "If you want to find another husband," he said, "you need to get rid of these."

"I will after Adam's born," Grace replied, deciding to start using his name. "It seemed right to wear the rings Marc gave me since I was pregnant with his baby. Well, when I
was
pregnant with his baby. Now, I don't like being pregnant and looking like I'm not married."

"You're still in love with your husband," Jack said, continuing to look at the rings.

"I'll always love Marc," Grace replied, "but it doesn't mean I won't love again. I loved being married, and keeping a home, and feeling loved, and curling up with my husband in bed and making love, and I want to one day have everything I lost."

Jack looked up from the rings, and said in a cynical voice, "Well, if you find the man you're looking for and he happens to be circumcised, don't tell him it makes a difference. If you don't have an orgasm he'll wonder if he's pumping too hard, and if you do, he'll wonder if you're faking." He dropped her hand and started for the door.

"Jack?" she called after him, as he was about to leave. He glanced back and waited. She shrugged. "I don't necessarily believe everything in the survey."

Jack eyed her steadily, and replied, "I'll keep that in mind," then walked out.

But after Jack left, Grace found herself fantasizing about what it would be like to make love to a circumcised man. She also realized she wasn't imagining just any circumcised man. She wanted to prove to Jack that he wasn't lacking in any way, because intuition told her he'd thoroughly invalidate the survey, and she wouldn't have to fake anything to prove her point.

***

While Jack was doing ranch work the following day, and Maureen was with Susan looking after Ricky, Grace went to tidy up Jack's house. Thinking about how she wanted to arrange things, and imagining Jack's face when he walked in, energized her, and when she left the lodge, she left carrying a small bucket and a sponge and a bottle of disinfectant from the bathroom.

To her surprise, at Jack's house she discovered he had cleaning supplies, including a vacuum cleaner, though from the looks of the place it hadn't been used in months. Behind a door that opened into the living room was a bank of stairs that led to a big attic with a steep roof. A wide dormer with several windows in it stretched across the back. Although there were three bedrooms downstairs, she could imagine the attic being made into a big open room for several boys, or a couple of smaller rooms for boys and girls.